


Beaten

by Anonymous



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991)
Genre: Choking, Established Relationship, M/M, Murder Kink, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, negaduck is a loud bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 05:11:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19311307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: After losing so badly to Darkwing Duck and the various forces that be yet again, he wants to feel anything but domestic.But it’s not like he has any other place to go. Even in this dimension, anyone else is just as if not more likely to take advantage of aweakened Negaduckthan fix him up, if he was at their mercy.





	Beaten

Most types of pain, Negaduck can handle just fine if not outright enjoy. The sting of antiseptic is  _not_  one of them.

"Just quit being a pussy about it."

Negaduck promptly grits his teeth, sinks his fingernails into the couch, and tries as hard as he can not to recoil or seethe as more is dabbed onto his last gash.

"... _Gee_ , thanks for the advice," he growls.

The fact that he can't even be the slightest bit convincing to someone like Launchpad isn't great for his ego at the moment, regardless of how well the guy knows him— _because_  of how infuriatingly well the guy knows him, really. After losing so badly to Darkwing Duck and the various forces that be yet again, he wants to feel anything but domestic.

But it's not like he has any other place to go. Even in this dimension, anyone else is just as if not more likely to take advantage of a  _weakened Negaduck_  than fix him up, if he was at their mercy.

Before Launchpad, though, he  _was_  willing to take his chances.

Before Launchpad he didn't have to deal with someone being pissed and acting all moody when he spent a while away from home. Ugh— _home_.

It's been at least an hour since he passed back through the portal and hobbled in, and two weeks before that since he was even last in the Negaverse, and yet Launchpad has barely spoken all the while that he's been putting gauze and bandages and splints and whatnot on him. Granted, Negaduck did wake him up when he got here at three in the morning. He might just be too tired to talk.

Or there might be more to it. There has to be. There always is.

Okay, fine,  _he'll_  start it this time.

"So you're not gonna say anything about me being gone for so long, or what?"

Launchpad pauses briefly in stitching up his arm, then merely continues without looking up and sighs.

"You've been gone longer before."

"Yeah, and you whined like a bitch about it when I got back all of those times. Is twelve days just the cutoff? Alright, I guess I'll put that in my notes—"

Launchpad ties the thread off pointedly and harshly and finally looks up. The bags underneath his eyes go deeper than usual.

"You want me to say somethin'? Fine, I'll say something—you should've fuckin' taken me with you. Or you should've come and gotten me. I know you _plan_  shit, how hard can it be to just pop back in once or twice so I know you didn't get fuckin' killed—"

Negaduck scoffs and leans his head back over the edge of the couch, feeling his eyes glaze over.

"Aw, were you  _worried_  about me?" he lilts and mock-pouts.

It's then silent long enough for him to feel compelled to glance over. He finds Launchpad's beak curling into a deeper and deeper scowl.

"...Relax, would ya? We both know if anything's ever gonna kill me it's gonna be  _me_." And he leans back again, staring only at the opposite wall. "Or you."

That earns him some kind of amused exhale. It's true, though. Ironically enough the man next to him is the only other person he'd trust to do it.

"Yeah? What about getting beaten within an inch of your life, 'cause that would stop happening if you just let me come with you and do my fuckin'  _job_."

He punctuates that dramatically by snipping the excess thread, as though it's  _not_  something Negaduck has heard a hundred times before.

"And what's your job again?" he sighs, just for the fun of it.

" _Protecting you_ , asshole," Launchpad snaps without skipping a beat, dropping Negaduck's arm and cocking his head. "I don't fucking get it. No one here manages to lay a goddamn finger on you and that's because of  _me_. Why let Dipshit Duck do it when all I'd have to do is step one foot into his dimension and he'd be fucking  _done_  and it'd all be fucking  _over_  and you'd never have to deal with his ass again!"

His beak is practically up against Negaduck's by the end of that. Truth be told, he makes a good point that Negaduck has never been able to satisfyingly answer. Maybe he just doesn't want to.

"'Step one foot,' huh?" he says lowly, chest heaving. "...If you had Darkwing Duck right here, how would you do it."

Lightning fast, Launchpad's hand is closing around his neck.

"Go for the throat," he answers, just as low. His thumb presses into the hollow of Negaduck's own. "I'd get to watch him struggle right up close and he'd get to spend his last minute or so seeing how much I enjoyed it."

The grip on Negaduck's neck is just tight enough to get his heartbeat going. He can breathe fine, but he knows that Launchpad could simply squeeze and finish him right now if he wanted. And he  _relishes_  the sliver of doubt he has that Launchpad won't.

"What if he wasn't close enough for that?"

"I'd shoot him."

"With what?"

"The bazooka. He'll get to feel his skin fry and flake off before I get my hands on him."

"You gonna strangle him then, too? That'd be mercy to a guy that's burning to death," Negaduck reminds him, breath coming heavier.

"'Course not." Launchpad growls, feeling the same. "I'd rip him to fucking pieces. I'd stick him to the wall and disembowel the fucker with an axe. I'd just wail on him until his skull fucking cracked open and I'd keep going until his brains were painting the floor—"

In his desperation Launchpad can't help but reach forward with his free hand and grab a handful of chest feathers, and Negaduck  _moans_.

They both immediately glance down to the tent in his boxers. Launchpad doesn't hesitate to yank them down and get a real eyeful—nevermind how many times he's seen it before.

_Oh_ —

"Tell me how else you'd kill Darkwing Duck," Negaduck demands through another strangled moan and practically through tears in his eyes, this time reaching out and grabbing Launchpad by his hair.

He pulls him in just in time to swallow Launchpad's own, deeper moans—to feel that tongue lick sloppily into his mouth and make his cock jump right into the hand that's already engulfed it—and he pulls Launchpad's head back again, because he wants to fucking  _hear_  it.

"Fuck, you've thought about it that much, huh?"

"Every fucking time you leave," he admits at once, like he's been dying to say that this whole time. "Every time you say his fuckin'  _name_." He tightens his hand around Negaduck's throat. "I wanna do it so bad and I want you to see me do it, babe"—he squeezes Negaduck's cock in between his fingers—"and I want him n' his own stupid version of me to know I'm doing it for you"—he slips his fingers lower and makes use of the natural slick—"'cause no one is allowed to hurt you but me. Fucking  _no one_."

" _Fuck_ —"

Negaduck really can't help it when one of those fingers presses inside him. He can't keep his eyes from rolling back and he can't articulate a goddamn thing except to breathe, practically against his will,

" _Launchpad, please_ —"

And he doesn't even get to finish before Launchpad's beak crashes into his again, not quite kissing him yet but giving him only their shared hot breath to inhale while he mutters more sweet, vile nothings into his mouth and stretches him open down below. His thumb teases along Negaduck's erection all the while, making it that much more unbearable.

Negaduck finally just opens his beak wide enough to let his tongue loll out, knowing the other man will take advantage like he wants.

In the next moment, Launchpad is deep inside both ends of him. It's all he can do to grip at his hair and at the seams of the couch as their beaks are impossibly tangled, as sharp stubble scrapes against him, as his tongue is sucked and bitten something fierce, as they moan directly into each other—

As he feels so warm in the face and chest that he almost doesn't realize how long his cock has been pulsing, untouched... and that's a kind of snap back into reality on its own.

Seizing the impulse with some still-functioning part of him, Negaduck shoves Launchpad back by his chin and tells him,

"I know somewhere else you could put that mouth."

" _Oh, fuck yes._ "

He doesn't hesitate yet again—which isn't all great because it means that all at once Negaduck's throat is freed and those fingers are  _out of him_  and leaving him cruelly empty, but at the same time Launchpad is dropping onto the floor and shoving the box that was propping up his broken leg and pulling both legs over his shoulders and  _moaning_  around his cock like  _just two weeks have made him miss the taste so damn bad_...

That and the look Launchpad gives him through hooded, glassy eyes seem to fill him right back up. Especially so with those massive hands holding his hips in place so that he can't thrust forward no matter how hard he tries—the tips of his fingers are certainly adding to all the bruises that Negaduck's already got, too. The only present control he has is a ruthless grip on Launchpad's hair and on the bottom of his jaw, urging his mouth open now and then so he can see how fucking hot the deep pink flush of his cock looks against Launchpad's face, and all the precum glistening on his tongue, and just how  _desperate_ the guy is to swallow it back down—

"Fuck, I know you gotta be hard as a rock right now," he groans out in a sudden, similarly desperate realization. "Lemme see it."

Then the guy seems to moan in  _relief_.

He has to duck underneath Negaduck's legs before he can stand up enough to give him proof of how right he was without even taking his boxers off yet—and then to tug the waistband down and let him  _really_  see how fucking  _right_  he was.

Launchpad's cock falls and makes a wet  _slap_  against his own, an even deeper red to contrast, and Negaduck is halfway hanging off the couch with only his damaged arms for support right now but all he can think or feel is how much he  _needs_  it.

"Oh g— _yes_ ," he practically chokes out, feeling the weight of it everywhere already. "Stick it in me."

Some kind of laugh bubbles out of Launchpad's chest. "You want me to fuck you while your leg is broken?"

It's only below the knee anyway, but Negaduck immediately feels it pulse.

" _Fuck yeah I do_."

That's good enough for Launchpad, who wastes no time in dragging that cock down and underneath Negaduck's until the tip is pressing in at the base of his tail.

On other days he might be in the mood to tease, to make Negaduck beg for it before he moved so much as an inch forward. But  _not_  now—and not entirely because of his own arousal, either.

He thrusts in to hear the high-pitched whine that he only ever  _gets_  to hear with that very first thrust, and he stops to grab Negaduck's hips and hear the subsequent low growl that he always does to cover it up. It sounds deeper than usual, this time. Maybe because of how beaten up the rest of his body is.

"God, just give it to me—"

And Launchpad  _does_ that, he gives it to him so hard and fast that Negaduck's bruises and bandaged gashes start throbbing, he fucks his ass open and fills him up so good that he suddenly doesn't know why he  _ever_  leaves, Negaduck swears he can feel that cock in his fucking  _chest_ somehow and he can't possibly help what comes out of him—

" _Oh yes, YES, oh FUCK I missed this, I missed your cock so fucking bad, fucking give it to me babe I fucking NEED it..._ "

The next few thrusts come harsher as Launchpad whines and lurches forward, shifting one hand from Negaduck's hip to his throat in a fraction of a second.

"I missed  _you_ , asshole," he mutters through sharp, hot breaths.

Negaduck just moans again and arches his neck further into Launchpad's grip. His hands scramble for purchase and find it on the wrist at his throat and in the chest in front of him, fisting what he can and hanging on for dear life.

It's about then that he realizes, however hazily, that some of his stitches have split. And Launchpad's still going.

Not that he'd expect or want him to stop. But he's losing blood and it  _has_  to be that—he'll forever tell himself it was that—that makes his mouth start running even more.

"Maybe I keep leaving 'cause you fuck me so good when you miss me, you ever think of that?" There's the tiniest of pauses in Launchpad's rhythm, and a shift in his expression, but he doesn't stop. "Maybe I like gettin' home all beaten up— _hng_ —maybe I like you fixing me—"

"You like getting reminded  _who you belong to, Negs?_ "

With that Launchpad's pace picks up and his grip tightens enough to keep Negaduck from making any noise at all for the next several thrusts—and he's so lightheaded by the time his grip loosens up again that the very moment it does, he hears himself fucking  _sob_ ,

"Fuck, Launchpad, I'm  _yours_ —"

And it's over for both of them by the time  _that_  rips itself from his throat, but as Launchpad truly drives his cock home hard enough to break him it just  _keeps coming_ —

" _I bet you wanna kill Darkwing so you can know what it's like to kill_ me _, don't you? Fuck, I want you to. I want you to, baby, I don't want anyone else to do it, I want you to be the one to fucking end it, just, just—oh FUCK, just_ —"

He comes and it's fucking  _blinding_ , it paints the underside of his own beak and all the feathers on the way and it stays with him until he hears a groan of his name and, some moments later, feels the cock inside of his ass deflate.

Launchpad, meanwhile, still can't think until he's done licking up every drop of Negaduck's come that he can reach.

Then, when he finally  _can_ ,

"...God, you're hot."

Negaduck can barely move, but he still has to laugh. "Figured I look worse now than when I first showed up."

"Yeah," Launchpad doesn't hesitate to agree, raking his eyes over all the re-opened cuts that he'll have to clean up and bandage all over again. Not to mention the new bruises, and all the new spots where his feathers are sticking up... and the semen dripping out of his ass.

He doesn't have room to think about Darkwing Duck anymore, though, or even anything that Negaduck said only minutes ago. He just lets out a heaving breath and smirks.

"But now it's 'cause of  _me_."

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this idea for a while but pre-emptively drew [this](https://bassdraws.tumblr.com/post/185683342826) based on it - and also [this](https://negadrakepad.tumblr.com/post/185706692410), which is much more explicit.
> 
> and yeah, you can def figure out who i am based on those links, which i don't care about, i just didn't want this directly attached to my ao3 profile lmao. if you got here at all in the first place then i can only assume you have nothing against it.


End file.
